Is That All You've Got? (2)
The Papal Court had been buzzing for two months.
And no wonder — it was the first time in two months that all the novices had gathered in one place. The apprentices who had been dispatched for the Gold Pentagon were streaming back into the Holy See in twos and threes.
But it wasn't just them.
"Which team do you think will take King at the Gold Pentagon?"
"Are you joking? There's never been a single instance in Gold Pentagon history where a Gold team failed to take King."
"Heh. As long as it doesn't get snatched away by Blue, that is."
This time, the Gold priests had turned out in force as well. They loved their juniors — just in a very different way than Blue did.
Where Blue had the feel of tight-knit brothers-in-arms, White that of warm older siblings, and Red that of an iron wall between seniors and juniors —
Gold was closer to an elite clique.
Made up purely of pureblooded aristocrats, their pride in their reputation was immense, and the juniors strove for perfection so as not to leave so much as a scratch on their seniors' legacy.
"I can understand White accepting the family head despite his rootless commoner origins, but why on earth does Blue take in commoners too?"
Only Blue and White were faiths friendly to the common people.
They wanted nothing to do with dirty blood, and Blue had always gotten under their skin. Not that it mattered — a Saint's family enjoying the support of the empire's citizens was never going to look good to them anyway.
"Still, the Gold Pentagon should be quite satisfying to watch."
"I've been sick of watching Blue's priests and that family head strut around like they own the place."
"It'd be best if that useless faith just disappeared already..."
But the actual stars of the show — the novices — found themselves struck speechless the moment they laid eyes on Isaac's team.
Their gray priest robes had long since faded, but the sashes wrapped around their waists were an unmistakable, flawless, noble blue.
"...Holy crap! The Blue team actually came back!"
"...How the hell did they make it back?"
How did they make it back?
By getting walloped with a baby rattle by a snot-nosed brat, that's how!
The moment the Blue team arrived at the Papal Court, they covered their mouths and bowed to the empire.
"Son of a— Hella! I missed you, you damned beautiful place!"
"That cursed little brat!!"
"Goddamn Isaac Eshua!"
"Go die in a ditch somewhere!"
That was how much they had suffered while outside the Holy Empire!
Granted, they hadn't gone far — just a neutral nation right on the border. Technically speaking, it was like visiting the neighborhood next door. Even so, they had genuinely thought they were going to die!
"Damn you, Isaac!"
The sight sent ripples through the other priests.
"If they're cursing that badly... how bad was it out there?"
"Picking on a kid that young and ditching him. I feel sorry for Isaac..."
Amid the commotion around them, Isaac approached with a face on the verge of tears.
"That's right, brothers. If you have complaints, say them with words. Cursing me out like that..."
Isaac threw his arms around them sorrowfully.
"Brothers... I'm sorry Isaac is so lacking. I'll serve you even more devotedly from now on."
"Good heavens, how can a child be so young and so precious...!"
The Blue team, the very ones being hugged, were experiencing full-blown pupil earthquakes.
You little brat! Put the rattle down BEFORE you talk to me!!
'Ha, that damned brat. How does he hide his true nature the instant we're back in the empire?!'
It was genuinely infuriating and unfair, and they could barely contain themselves.
"You little...! You dumped every remaining trap on us and walked off!"
"You grabbed just your own head and got ferried straight to the capital, didn't you?"
Isaac flicked his ear.
Well, what of it? Mission accomplished. Why bother walking when there's no need?
Running with your own legs was a hobby for brainless priests whose muscles had replaced their brains. Besides, even a glance made it obvious the mages had laid traps specifically to keep them from returning to the empire.
"Well, hey — where else would I train if not with me around? I did level up a bit on the way back, you know."
WHAT did you just say?!
Isaac, who had used the Magic Prince's privilege to arrive comfortably at the capital ahead of everyone else, was practically glowing with health.
Of course, to his teammates he'd claimed he needed to go ahead to investigate backgrounds and because the magical beast's head might get damaged...
"We... we wanted to use an expensive warp too!"
"We went all the way to the land of mages, even if it was the countryside!"
The Blue team pounded the ground in protest.
Teleportation was regarded as a mage's soul-eating trickery, so priests rarely used it.
"Anyway!! Do you have any idea how hard it was with those mages swarming everywhere?! And you just ran off alone! How are you the leader after that?! You call yourself a guardian of the faith?!"
Isaac flicked his ear again.
What's the problem? You wouldn't know, but I secretly got a precious King-ranked Holy Spirit attached to me.
Well — since they were clearly trash with pathetic magic cores, I just threw them at the kids for training practice.
"If this great one had trained them, those Nobodies would've come crawling back anyway. Did you at least bring their magic cores? No lesson fee, by the way."
"What did you just—" GAH!
The Blue team lunged for Isaac's collar, but the other novice priests watched in sheer horror.
"Th-they survived a fight against actual mages?"
"How much stronger have they gotten in the past two months?"
"What on earth were they being taught...?!"
Naturally, the entire hall erupted.
"Aren't THEY going to take the top score at the final evaluation today?"
"!"
The moment attention shifted to Blue, the Gold teams forced out awkward smiles.
This was the Gold Pentagon, after all.
A momentous occasion where senior priests — even bishops and cardinals, their grand seniors — gathered to honor the juniors' achievements.
Just hearing this kind of talk was unpleasant.
"You're kidding. There's no way those guys did anything impressive in the land of the mages."
Granted, they'd all heard the news about rescued survivors. But survivors alone wouldn't earn the top score.
Why?
Because they had brought back something far more valuable!
'Kina really came through for us.'
When they protested that she had helped the Blue team during the Red Pentagon, Kina had, surprisingly, agreed readily.
"Understood. This time I'll make absolutely sure Gold wins. I know better than anyone what the Gold Pentagon represents."
"Yes! Thank you!"
"Bring back the relics of Hella's ancestors that were taken to enemy soil."
"Jackpot! That'll be perfect!"
With Kina's help, they had managed to secure something even more valuable than their original target.
And the Gold Pentagon judged above all how much a team contributed to the Holy Empire — its material and spiritual worth.
Which meant you had to use your head when choosing a mission.
But survivors?
Some half-blood commoner knights, big deal. What possible value did people like that have for the Holy Empire?
And that wasn't all.
'Besides, Molech went out swearing he'd crush the Blue team.'
Just in case, he'd promised to destroy their spoils too.
And so the conclusion they'd reached was a flawless, perfect victory for Gold! With no surprises whatsoever...
Just then, the banquet hall began to stir — in an entirely different sense.
"His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!"
"!!"
What? The Emperor?
Amid the collective shock, the blond Emperor appeared, followed by the black-haired Crown Prince.
Everyone bowed in reverence. His entrance alone changed the atmosphere in an instant.
"It is His Majesty's great honor to personally announce the results of this year's Gold Pentagon evaluation."
Every chest swelled with pride.
'Good heavens — no one said anything about His Majesty coming!'
Important as the Pentagon was, it was still merely an examination for novices. Traditionally, a single member of the imperial family attending was the extent of it.
But then.
"Raise your heads."
"!"
"Some among you rendered great service to the Empire at this Gold Pentagon. I have come to express my gratitude."
The Gold novices nearly burst with joy inside.
Service to the Empire!
That had to mean them!
At the same time, the Gold senior priests gazed at their juniors with immense pride, their faces practically declaring that of course their juniors warranted nothing less than the Emperor himself.
'I suppose even the Emperor had to mind the Papacy's eyes.'
'Right. Exactly. As he should.'
Proper decorum maintained — yet their faces betrayed barely contained delight at his presence.
Soon the final evaluation began, and each team's trophies were presented. There was variety — the direct heir teams of each faith, mixed teams, and everything in between.
"The White team has brought back a collection of scattered ancient tomes."
"Oh ho. Not bad. Worth researching, certainly."
"The Red team has brought back a holy sword forged three hundred years ago by the master craftsman Arte."
"Ah, that craftsman's work still commands a handsome price."
"The Sky Eagle team has brought back a newly discovered divine beast."
"Oh. A first discovery will do the Empire's name some good."
"This year's novices are quite capable. Last year's hauls weren't nearly this impressive."
As the priests' praise continued, the Gold priests couldn't keep the corners of their mouths from climbing upward.
Pathetic. All of it, pathetic!
Compared to ours, it's child's play!
"And finally, the Gold team — which has brought back imperial treasures stolen from Hella centuries ago."
"Gasp...!"
Imperial treasures?
The Gold novices placed a magnificent man's necklace on the table. The priests murmured. That was no ordinary item.
"A treasure passed down through the imperial line for generations."
"The one the barbarians made off with...!"
Even the Emperor was impressed.
"It is an heirloom passed down at royal weddings — stolen during the reign of my grandfather, a great and wise sovereign. A precious gift from a nation indebted to Hella, and its loss grieved him deeply. To think you recovered it. I am in awe of your ability."
Ha! That's Kina for you.
Not only did it fit the theme of 'Reclamation' perfectly, she even factored in the historical significance. Flawless, as expected!
Well, if they were being honest about their greed... nothing beat reclaiming something from the Magic Empire, their sworn enemy nation. But even so, that much had surely been out of reach.
Yes. For a novice, this was top-shelf work.
'If anyone's done more than us, step up and say it to our faces.'
'His Majesty must have known about this. That's why he came in person.'
The other teams seemed to have already sensed Gold's victory, hands pressed to their foreheads in resignation. No surprises after all.
"And last of all — the Blue team."
"!"
Every eye in the hall turned to Isaac.
"The Blue team has heroically rescued every single holy knight abducted by demons in Crashandia."
"Oh — from the land of the mages? That alone is remarkable!"
"That's Blue for you!"
The priests of other faiths applauded with genuine admiration. They seemed to rate highly the sheer courage of entering the mages' territory at all.
But the Gold novices merely smirked.
'Just hauling back some survivors won't...'
But the priests continued, presenting the magical beast's severed head.
"The Blue team also dealt with the very magical beast that drove priests to their deaths fourteen years ago. They slew with their own hands a creature the mages themselves had been hunting, rescued the survivors, and washed away the pain of Hella from fourteen years past."
Then they produced the magic core — and the hall exploded.
"They slew that beast themselves?!"
"Blue did?"
The Gold team's faces froze.
No, hold on.
They killed the beast? Who? THOSE guys?
A fake... no, it can't be. There was an actual magic core.
'More importantly — how did THEY get their hands on that thing?'
'Where's Molech?! Didn't he swear he'd take care of it?!'
But they quickly steadied their hearts.
No. It's fine. Still fine.
The beast is surprising, sure — but at best it only puts them just barely on par with our achievement.
In terms of pure value, the imperial treasure still...
"Moreover, the Blue team rescued Prince Hiberius Rom Britannia of the Magic Empire."
...Son of a— what did you say?
Rescued WHAT now?
The prince of the Magic Empire?!
The faces of the Gold priests — and of Count Molech, who had been sitting smugly in the Gold seats — stiffened rapidly.
Something felt ominous.
Very ominous.
And sure enough, Isaac beamed, as if to say now comes the main event.
"In exchange for saving Prince Hiberius Britannia's life, we made a demand. The return of one of the items the Magic Empire — our enemy nation — took from Hella two hundred years ago, and the abolition of the outrageous tolls Crashandia has been charging us. The Magic Empire has already accepted both terms."
"!!"
Crashandia.
One of the foremost diplomatic headaches currently plaguing the Holy Empire.
The Magic Empire, seeking to strangle Hella's imports and exports, had imposed an exorbitant toll on Crashandia — the juiciest trade artery Hella possessed.
The stunned priests ran the numbers at lightning speed.
Enormous. However you slice it, the Magic Empire paid far too much.
Sure enough, the Emperor smiled.
"Not only did you raise the name of a Hella once wounded, you have delivered a reclamation that remains of concrete, practical benefit to this very day."
The Papal Court's banquet hall roiled with commotion.
The Emperor laughed heartily — as if, in truth, he had come in person because of Blue's achievement.
"Of course, the imperial treasure the Gold team recovered is a precious article that honors the imperial house. But I hold the lives of my people — the citizens of this Empire — dearer than the honor of any royal house."
"...!"
"The Blue team saved not only the lives of the captured holy knights, but the lives of countless citizens of the Empire. Trade touches the daily livelihoods of every ordinary subject. In saving them, you spared innumerable citizens from pointless suffering. I intend to weigh that service most generously."
"...!"
The Gold priests broke out in a cold sweat. Something was going very, very wrong.
"And it seems the judging panel's verdict does not differ greatly from my own assessment."
The Emperor turned to look at the judges. At the expressions on their faces, the Gold priests' jaws dropped.
...Hold on. I'm sorry — WHAT?